Kids eating sand in the desert. With the first one, two young parents obsessing. With the second, "nah, it's fine." Same desert, four years apart.
Most storytelling training starts at delivery. This starts two steps earlier: finding the story in the first place.
The Lightning Session and the workshop run on Maven, a platform for live online courses.
AI can write your post, your deck, your bio. It cannot write your life.
Ten, twenty, thirty years in, you're carrying more lived experience than you can account for. Rooms you sat in. Decisions that went wrong in interesting ways. The thing you do on weekends that explains you better than your job title.
That pile can't be generated, copied or outsourced. Everyone's output is converging — same tools, same tone, same credentials in the same room. Lived experience is what's left, and almost none of it has been examined.
Places you lived down the side, names you answered to across the top.
Pick a live cell. Drop in the two probes, then widen with the four lenses.
Tag the feeling — hard, weird, scary, stupid — then find the shape underneath.
The same story runs differently in a pitch, on a podcast, at a dinner. What moves is where the turn sits.
Places you lived down the side. Names you answered to across the top. Mark what existed — most of the grid stays empty, and that's doing work too. What's left is your territory, already a portrait.
| Place ↓ / Name → | Kid | Student | Employee | Entrepreneur | Father |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Bombay | |||||
| Dubai | |||||
| Madras | |||||
| Mumbai | |||||
| New Jersey |
Dig where the row is crowded. Simultaneously a new father, a new immigrant, a first-time founder — several names at once means several things going wrong at once.
The grid tells you where and who. The probes tell you what it felt like to be there. Animal — what you did with your body, your brain, your breath. Thing — what you did with your hands. Neither is the story. Both bring the memory back in colour.
Kids eating sand in the desert. With the first one, two young parents obsessing. With the second, "nah, it's fine." Same desert, four years apart.
The day the world stopped. You remember exactly where you were standing. The client wanted to carry on with the meeting, as though nothing had happened.
Same city, same year, two different names — two stories with nothing in common. That's the grid earning its keep.
Each seed gets asked four questions. One coordinate can yield four unrelated stories.
It happened to me.
It happened to someone right beside me.
It happened around me, in my vicinity.
It happened in the world, and I was somewhere when it did.
A Cube story is still told from the Point. The world event isn't the story — a room no one could reach, and a client who wanted to keep going, is. You're always the point of contact.
Every city you've lived in, then every city you've holidayed in. One era, one cell, one seed, taken to a told sixty-second story.
Build the real grid. Work the cells under a timer, run all four lenses, then cut and stage the survivors for three different rooms.
I didn't arrive at this as theory.
The talk on what obituaries reveal about living well. Watched more than two million times.
Years speaking from stages, plus a handful of open mics, one of them at the Comedy Cellar — all hunting the same thing: the one detail that makes a room lean in.
Name, Place, Animal, Thing, an Amazon bestseller. This page is the method inside it, turned into a workshop.
I founded StreamAlive after two years of watching live audiences get ignored. Every method on this page, I used on myself first.
Free to try, or go straight to the full workshop. Every door leads to the same grid.
The Lightning Session and the workshop run on Maven, a platform for live online courses.
Bringing this to your team or company? See the team workshop or message me on LinkedIn.